Cynetic Wolf
THE BOY WHO CRIED WOLF

The livestream started, fires everywhere.

‘Leed Goralich reporting from Kiag, what’s left of it. You may remember Raek Mekorian, the wolfish terrorist who murdered four officers in the capital a while back and torched his hometown, Kiag. It appears he’s struck again.’

The image panned to an overhead of the Black Forest, bluish green smoke billowing from the smoldering inferno. ’Chemfires are raging, destroying more and more animote land, farms, and livestock in the process. We at the WNN and GDR feel for citizens affected and beg anyone with information to report it to the DNS. Leed Goralich signing off, stay safe.’

Clenching my fists, I felt lightheaded. They’d destroyed everything I’d ever loved, and now the forest—my one true home… Those bastards.

I raced to where I’d left Lars, ignoring the calls and waves as I passed, everything burning red. This couldn’t go on. I wouldn’t let it.

Bursting through the flimsy door, I snapped, “Lars! Is it ready?”

He turned, a curious expression on his face. “Oh, kid, you’re back?”

“Is it ready or not?” I showed him the clip.

“Almost.”

“Add this.” I improvised a response to the fire and footage. “Now, show it to me, the whole thing.”

“I need more—”

“Show it to me!”

He flipped a few screens, dragged several frames and let out a pleased sigh. “That should do it. Here.”

A holo of me appeared, dramatic music in the background.

When it was finished, I was impressed. “Good work. Now publish it! Everywhere.”

“We need to figure out—”

“I said publish it. Spread it like the fire that leveled my town. We have those bastards in a lie. We don’t have time to screw around.”

His hands flew. “Done. Should hit the major elite and animote webs, forums, message boards and social sites at once. All major alt news outlets. We’re on TOR4, other darknet channels, and there’s holo and video options for any tech stack.” His eyes twinkled.

“Thanks, Lars.”

A notification came. Another, and another… soon, a torrent. “It’s happening!” I exclaimed. That was fast.

A new message popped up.

What the—? It was from Ania. Oh, wow. That was even faster.

I grabbed Lars. “Come on!”

Three minutes later, we were at Thorn’s cell, and Ania unlocked it. “That was quick.”

“Open it here.” I created a screen outside her view.

Our conversation materialized. Holy crap. He answered!

Lars and I were silent as we read.

Thorn,

Interesting.

Good work.

Where and when?

- CF

“He has a way with words,” Lars said sardonically.

You got that right. You should see his other messages. “I’ll set up an emergency Council meeting. Ania, can you lock the room. We’ll be back in thirty minutes or less.”

Once we were out of earshot, I asked, “What do you think?”

“He’s a tough father, that’s what I think.”

“Dang it, Lars. You know what I mean.”

“We need to pick the right location and pray there’s no secret code between the two. Our best bet is somewhere deserted.”

Everyone was there when we arrived and updates went quick. “So, where do we do this?” I asked. “Any suggestions?”

After some debate, we settled on an abandoned factory north of the city. We were banking on the fact he’d come alone, not wanting to reveal the possibility of emulation to any but his closest circle, in other words, himself.

And tonight, not too late. We couldn’t give him time to think things over. We’d have a small force of six, and I’d talk to him myself. The others ran off while Lars and I hurried back.

Dear Father,

It’s good to hear from you.

The sooner, the better. Let’s meet at the old Apple warehouse, north of the city. You know the one—abandoned since the company went under.

Eight p.m.? It’s late enough to avoid attention but not too late to attract suspicion.

Wear a blue shirt with black pants if everything’s fine, otherwise, we’ll assume you’ve been followed.

Walk in the door on the East side. We’ll be waiting.

Your son,

Thorn

We both read it once more, and I hit send.

Seconds later, a reply.

Sounds good.

- CF

We looked at each other. There was no turning back.

Viral

We got there early for recon, assuming Calter would do the same.

Paer came, as did Henk, Zedda, Lars, and Obowe, who would play the scientist, until we revealed the true plan. Zedda would cover us from above while Paer and Henk guarded the East entrance. Lars would circle the remaining doorways.

It was 17:00. Three hours to kill.

After an eternity, an electric whirr. Wheels skidded to a halt and piano music faded. This was it.

He was an hour early. Gravel crunched as footsteps crept toward the doorway. He stopped.

What if he messaged Thorn again? How did I not think of that?

After a minute, the footsteps continued. Phew. A door creaked open and thudded shut.

“Thorn,” he said in a soft, firm voice. “Where are you?”

Calter stepped from the recessed doorway onto the immense fulfillment center floor, boots clacking, athletic frame tense. Dark malevolent eyes took it all in as if readying himself for war, looking every bit the dangerous predator he was. “Thorn, if this is a game!”

“Don’t shoot, Calter.” I moved from behind a small wall, hands in the air. “My name’s Raek Mekorian. You’ve been chasing me for weeks. I want to talk.”

His hand shot up, aiming at me.

“Don’t,” I said. “We have you surrounded.” Zedda, Henk and Paer appeared.

“We don’t want a fight, this isn’t a kidnapping.” I added. “We’re here to talk.”

“Where’s the scientist? Where’s my son?” His voice rose, eyes narrowing. He hadn’t lowered his blaster.

“Thorn’s safe. We’ve got him sedated in a secure location.”

“Where is he?” Fury snapped.

I had to be careful, his blaster was pointed right at me. One false move... “I know you hate emulates, you’ve always envied them. We all do. Their immortality and disproportionate power, talk about a corrupt system. We want the same thing, you and I. You want power and I want to end the emulates reign, to make us equal.”

“What are you saying?” His eyes were wary but interested.

“We’re going to destroy the brain-fields. All of ’em.” I let that sink in, smiling. “We’re going to turn emulates into ordinary people. Level the playing field.”

“So, there’s no scientist, no one to perform the emulation?” His jaw twitched.

I shook my head.

“It’s impossible!” he growled. “Don’t think I haven’t tried. Their facilities are hidden.”

Lars stepped forward. “We found a way.”

“Who is this?” Calter spat, blaster still pointed at my head.

“Part of our organization,” I cut in. “We need your military deployment data, information on all locations with less than ten or twenty guards.”

A mirthless laugh. “I’m not giving you that.”

“Only the ones with all animote guards,” I said. “Emulates wouldn’t want cynetics or enhancers at the facility, might figure out what they were guarding.”

His brow furrowed. “I’m listening.”

I explained the compromise between secrecy and protection. “It’ll be well hidden as opposed to well guarded.”

“So you can figure out where they are,” he finished.

I nodded. “We don’t care what happens afterward, or who takes power. We figure it will be you in all honesty.” I paused, knowing that was his ultimate goal. “The emulates will be in disarray, and they’ll be mortal again. They’ll piss away their power.”

His eyes were gleaming now.

“If you’re willing to guarantee basic rights for animotes, we’re willing to help. Are you in?”

He sneered arrogance. “What do I need you lot for? You gave me what I needed.”

“Deniability! You’ll have someone to blame and no repercussions. Think about it.”

“I want my son back! How do I know I can trust you?”

“How do we know we can trust you, Calter?” I said. “We can’t, and neither can you. But we both want the same thing. We have a common enemy. It’s up to you.”

He turned to leave.

“Well?” Lars yelled after him.

“You’ll have your intel, tomorrow. I want my son!” he added. “I’ll send you details.” With that, he swept into the cold night, humming one of Bach’s more insidious pieces, a freezing gust of wind chilling our bones in the eerie silence as the door clattered shut.

No one spoke. We were a third of the way back when Zedda broke the silence. “That was easier than we expected.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Lars said.

“Did you see the way he looked at me?” I asked. “Disdain. Mutual admiration too, though. He knew we’d bested him and his son, and respected that, almost as much as he hated us. For him, this is personal. Something must have happened with the emulates.”

The question was, what?

“If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em,” Henk said. “And if you can’t join ’em, crush ’em. It’s human nature.”

Which was also what screwed us in the first place.

“Either way, we need teams on high alert,” Paer said. “The attacks have to be simultaneous. If they have advance warning, they’ll move the backups,” she said with an uncharacteristic worry.

“Or worse yet,” I said, “create more. Can you coordinate?” I asked her.

“Guys, we might have a problem,” Henk said. A moment later, “Oh shit!”

“INCOMING, INCOMING,” the VTOL blared. “BRACE FOR IMPACT.”